Super Rich Kids
by blvckfawn
Summary: 100 was a pretty nice tip for a doorman, but he'd called car service at 4 AM with no questions asked, ignoring the powder still stuck in the bit of stubble growing on Beck's jaw. (ensemble victorious, rkoi au. tw for drug use, alcohol abuse, sexual themes, and general debauchery)
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I originally posted this ( post/95905428613) mini-fic sort of thing for the prompt 'RKOI Victorious'. It was just a little drabble-style thing, but I had a few messages on tumblr, some twitter mutuals, and some of my actual friends that said the prompt would work well for a full-blown fic. I didn't have a lot of ideas for it, at first, but now that I do, I'm happy to write a full-blown RKOI AU.

Also - I'm still planning to update Cast and Crew. The next chapter will be out soon, hopefully, but in the meantime, there's this.

* * *

><p>Jade emerged from the shower, panting, slicking back her hair messily and immediately wrapping one of the thick fluffy monogrammed towels from the heated rack nearby around her chest. <em>God, <em>that new showerhead had been worth the begging that had been required during their last renovations of the south wing. She'd cited back pains and poor circulation, and honestly her father had probably just been tired of her asking by that point, because he'd agreed and signed the delivery form without so much as a flicker of hesitation or complaint. She'd finished half of her morning routine, now. Wake up (6:03 am), and complete fifteen minutes of yoga followed by six minutes of breathing exercises. Next, a bottle of sparkling Voss with cucumber and sliced kiwi, and at some point while chugging, down two Xanax. Then, off to the en-suite bathroom to brush her teeth and hop in the shower. Shampoo, condition, get herself off, exfoliate, rinse.

Now, as she stood in front of her mirror, long black hair dripping onto the sheepskin bath mat at her feet, she needed to exoliate, tone, and moisturize. Beck was meant to come by around ten o'clock, which meant she had exactly three hours and nine minutes to finish getting ready. Speeding through her dry-brush routine, left her skin tingling in a way that would probably be unpleasant, were she not floating on a xannie cloud of I-don't-give-a-fuck. A quick pat-down of her face with the first pump from a fresh bottle of R'eVive Intensit'e Volumizing Serum - a weekly treatment, of course, fuck, she was _only _twenty - and her routine was basically done. Well, the parts that _she _tended to, at least.

Padding out of the bathroom and wincing at the stick of her damp skin to the freshly installed hardwood flooring - she'd chosen clear grade, at first, but now she was beginning to reconsider. Something a little more rustic, for her room, maybe? - she made her way into her closet and tugged open the lingerie cabinet with all of the hope and wonder of a child on Christmas morning. Maybe today would be the day? Her fingertips drifted over the drawers that she'd organized in top-to-bottom order of 'I'm on my period', moving down to 'everyday', then 'suitable for intimacy', all the way down to 'I want to get fucked in a club bathroom, like, yesterday'.

No, none of this was acceptable. Not with Beck, at least. She might as well have weaved herself a thong made of rosaries - she'd fucked that opportunity up months ago.

Dropping her towel to the floor, she paused to admire herself in the mirror across the closet from her, it's full-length lit up warmly as soon as it's motion sensors had been tripped from her entering. Her tan was beginning to fade, a mix of genuine tan and some well-placed sugar-and-bronzer-water painted on for $400 by some poor minimum-wage spa worker in the Hamptons. Her plan had _originally _been to tan naturally for the entire trip (save for the base tan, bronzers, and oils, _of course) _but upon realizing that tan lines were very much a thing she'd have to deal with, she had some Chinese girl in a lab-coat paint-by-numbers the rest of her body to even everything else. Luckily, most of it had faded fairly evenly - the little lines of tan-to-pale ombre would be scrubbed away that Thursday at the chocolate-wrap appointment she'd made the night before.

Beck seemed to like her better, tan, though. That idea alone was enough to nearly make her cancel her scrub-and-wrap appointment four different times over the course of the night. Still, a part of her new better than to change for his current ideal - she'd tried that once or twice before, and it usually just ended up with his confusion and her frustration. His 'type' changed often, depending, usually, on where he'd been travelling recently. What his 'muse' was. When she'd taken off to the Hamptons with her dad and his girlfriend, he'd decided on a road trip to Los Angeles with a few of his current 'friends'. His new 'type' was tall, tan, with blonde hair, or at the very least, something a little brighter than the nearly black locks that she'd been growing out for years. She started with bronzers - MAC made eight or nine shades that complimented her, and the decision for tanning in the Hamptons followed suit. Soon enough, she was getting sun highlights - filling in the gaps on her tan with spa appointments, swapping out the long 'trendy colored' stiletto nails for french-tipped gels - Hell would freeze over the day that she chose to method act and go for, _ugh, _acrylics - or pale pinks and neutrals that brought out her newly manufactured glow.

The reflection in her mirror was slowly fading back to look like her, once more. She'd filed her nails back down to sharp points, long enough to keep the perfect sized bump of coke steady for use, though the tan still lingered, and the highlights - now faded - were still evident.

Selecting a set of lingerie - pale pink, to contrast against her tan of course; she still had hope for the evening, no matter how unlikely - she stepped into them and grabbed a pair of heels from the eye-level shelf nearby to match. Everything about her, visibly, was always pristine to those around her. It added an extra boost of confidence to know that the layers of her appearance that _weren't _visible to the public eye were equally on-point. And, again, that _hope for the evening _thing.

Her first time was going to be monumental. Matching heels and lingerie seemed like a good start.

* * *

><p>$100 was a pretty nice tip for a doorman, but he'd called car service at 4 AM with no questions asked, ignoring the powder still stuck in the bit of stubble growing on Beck's jaw. He deserved it. What a <em>splendid <em>man. A real stand-up guy.

Speaking of standing up - Beck was apparently having none of that. He didn't need to be at Jade's until 10, however, so he had a solid 6 hours to get an IV and relax on the drive across town. He might have fudged the numbers a little on which day he'd be getting back in town - sure, he _could _have called his girlfriend the night before, but she was probably busy, or exhausted from her own travelling. He didn't want to be a bother, of course.

That, and, it was nice to be a ghost for an evening - no one knowing he was back in town, no one calling him to come out, or trying to start fights, no girlfriend to impress, just him, a big ol' pile of drugs, and some very discreet friends. The perfect evening, really.

Now, though, it was time to return to the real world. His artistic mind was elsewhere, though, now. He didn't want to return to normal, he wanted to be back in LA, with the dumb-as-hell girls that couldn't tell him the last three presidents but gave head like they'd been practicing since being in the womb. The drugs were _unreal, _the crowd was so… alive. It was feral. He'd been looking at condos before coming home, but hadn't had a good chance to put money down on anything before having to leave.

Despite his… choice of activities while in LA, it was still a place he could see himself going with Jade. She had scarily effective people skills - it was a city he knew she could enter and destroy if she wanted to. She just didn't seem to have the interest. Jade was… Jade was _wife _material. In fact, another few years of schmoozing with his own father's company and he'd be working his way up to CEO. Tech was no interest of his, but money was.

His 'jog' in the direction of the car that pulled up was more of a barely-controlled stumble, the driver pulling the back door open just in time for Beck to spill inside, collapsing almost facedown, stretched across the backseat entirely. Still, though, it was a comfy enough place to stay still for a while, his coming-down mind still caught between so-so-so-tired and too-restless-to-sleep-for-a-month. What the hell _was _that powder? Sure wasn't coke. Twelve, maybe? Hard to say.

He was only vaguely aware of the car pulling away from the curb and beginning it's slow crawl down the Fifth Avenue. It was nearly 5 AM by the time they reach his flat - a gift from his parents. A 'test' of his maturity, his ability to handle responsibility of living alone. Though, he didn't really live alone, nor did he have any real responsibility - not with a staff of twenty-five, five days per week. (Thirty, each Sunday, to clean up the evidence of the night prior.)

He barely made it upstairs, taking a long shower, and nearly falling asleep with his head pressed against the cool marble wall. However, when he emerged from the water and steam, the clock claiming '6:09 AM', he felt a lot better than he had only a few hours earlier. He collapsed, naked, and still wet, on top of the fluffy duvet on his bed. The steam rose off of his skin in thin rivers, until his body acclimated to the temperature of the room. All muscle and tanned skin, his body had a distinctly specific look to it - one that was crafted by trainers and meditation coaches and yoga instructors for his entire life - 'I _want _to look this powerful. I _paid _to make myself look this powerful. I can _afford _to look this way. This is _not _blue-collar muscle.'

Hm, only 6:20 AM - he wasn't going to meet Jade at her parents' until 10 AM, which meant he had a good amount of time to nap off the remainder of his… high? Hangover? Come-down? What even _was _this hazy mess? Unimportant detail. A quick nap and he'd be fine, ready to rejoin the world of the living.

The phone on the nightstand blared loudly - he must have left it in the car, and one of his staff would have returned it. He tried to ignore it, but by the third ring, his head was pounding. Swiping it from the nightstand, he picked up without consulting the screen - his first big mistake.

"Hello?"

"Beck, hey!"

"Tori. Hey." Ew, holy shit, is that what his voice sounded like? He must have smoked at least a pack and a half, the night before.

"What are you doing today?"

"Uh, going to Jade's in a couple of hours." His second big mistake.

There's a long, uncomfortable silence for a moment.

"Are… are you guys going out, tonight?" Her voice sounded hurt, but hell, he was _not _interested in playing that game, not when he was this trashed from the night before.

"Yeah, I don't know, maybe. Listen, Tori," he sat up a bit, kneeling there, naked in the center of the $4500 Ralph Lauren duvet. The fucking album art of a Kanye record, really.

She made a small impatient noise, and he soothed it over with an expertise in charm and slime that could only come from someone like him.

"_Baby, _how about you and I hang out on Thursday, hm? After the show? Just me and you. We don't even have to leave the hotel - we can just get room service and sit in the jacuzzi…"

She sighed a little, won over already.

It _sounds _romantic, probably, to her. It's keeping them out of the public eye, to him. It's total side-bitch logic. He has Robbie to thank for it. The thing is, Jade and Tori are friends - sort of - Jade doesn't have a lot of friends, not that she considers _friends _anyway. She had contacts. She networked. Everything was business, or politics, with her.

"That sounds awesome, actually."

"I know. I'll see you Thursday."

He hung up and tossed the phone messily across the bed, collapsing into the matching Ralph Lauren throw pillows again. 2000 thread-count, of course.


	2. Chapter 2

Trina Vega, contrary to popular belief within the realms of Twitter, did not pay for her Lamborghini with her sister's money. Rising pop superstar, Tori Vega, was not responsible for the custom neon pink paint job, nor the weighted non-spinning rims on each of the four corners. Her recent flashmob and paid fan meetup did not cover the costs of the fit-to-match pink leather seats. In fact, her brand had begun to grow on it's own - she'd done a quick stint on a two-season wonder called _The Wood _during her senior year of high school, and while that itself didn't do wonders for her bank account, the recognition she was given from it was enough to keep her in the media's corner-eye-view.

Still, deep down, she knew that the reason her relevancy hadn't sizzled out quite completely was because of her sister. Tori, Tori, Tori. Growing up, Trina had always made herself the star of the show. After all, she was older, smarter, more talented, prettier… she must have looked away at the right moment when Tori suddenly just… _bloomed. _And, by some cruel twist of fate, she'd managed to use her shorter frame to cast the biggest shadow of all - right over top of her fairly-famous older sister.

Trina was going to make a comeback, though. She knew it. Even if it was only another reality show. Her favourite topic was herself, and with her fanbase from he show, she was their favourite topic too. She _did _poll online as one of the fan favourites from the cast, after all.

* * *

><p>Jade was just having the last of her touch-ups finished when she heard the muted sounds of talking down the stairs. Waving off her makeup artist with a little, "It's fine, trust me", she stood up and let her robe fall to the floor, stepping into the Versace cocktail dress she'd set out a short while earlier. The dark, rich brown color paired with her tan and dark locks gave her a morally-questionable sort of racial ambiguity but her father had sworn he'd have the help throw out any clothing she hadn't worn at least once that year - and she might <em>seriously <em>need the dress at some point so she had made a point of incorporating it into her rotation at least once annually.

Stepping out of her room and heading down the hall to the loft-floor that overhung above the long winding staircase to the foyer, she stopped dead, her breath catching a little. There _he _was, all dark-eyed and dapper as always, his nearly-untamable hair pulled back at the nape of his neck into a loose "I'm cultured - attractive _and _intelligent" style bun. _Fuck, _she wanted him, right then and there. She'd sort of thought that her ritual date with the showerhead that morning would have been enough - but it had been a _long _vacation, and she'd missed him.

He was in the middle of a conversation with her father, nodding solemnly and then smiling easily, pushing back a few small strands of hair that had fallen into his face, the long sleeves of his shirt doing little to hide the outline of muscle beneath them along his biceps. "_Adonis" _came to mind.

"Jade." he exhaled as she came into view, her father turning around as well. She couldn't help herself, practically speed-walking the last few steps and wrapping her arms around him tightly. He kissed her cheek, once, then smiled into her hair, whispering a little, "I missed you, too." - just between the two of them. She loved him, she loved him, she lo- And just like that, it was business as usual again.

He released her carefully, already planning. "Andre said he'll take you and Trina tonight - I have a prior engagement, but I can pick up Robbie and Tori when I'm available and meet you there." Jade turned to her father, about to ask him for a moment alone, but the CEO gods heard her call and suddenly he was on his phone, shouting obscenities and turning to storm off to his office.

"Are you busy right now?" Jade questioned, physically forcing herself to not bounce on her heels or play with her hair. She dropped her hands loosely to her sides and pushed her shoulders back, trying to appear as confident as she always did. This wasn't nervousness, though - it was her innate distaste for being turned down. Without giving him a chance to answer, she reached for his hand, pulling him toward the stairs. Now, now, now. Now. Now. She needed it _now._

Her heart plummeted, though, when she felt him resist, stopping her in her tracks.

"Jade, this isn't the best time for this, I mean, your dad -"

"It's a big house." She insisted, pulling again, only to be stopped once more. Pulling her back into his arms, Beck tightened _those goddamn biceps _around her and kissed her - genuinely, this time. Just as she began to feel herself melting into it, he retreated, though, and she felt her legs growing weak with need. In spite, she bit his lip - almost enough to draw blood, as he pulled away. Chuckling, he reached up to run a finger over his lip, eyes flickering up to her face almost predatorily. He was standing almost a full foot away, not touching her at all.

She was soaked.

"I'll see you tonight. Behave, in the meantime." he almost mocked, smiling a little as he pivoted on his heel and headed back out the front door, leaving her standing there, shaky, and frustrated, and absolutely head-over-heels in love.

"… Daddy?" she called, after a beat, clearing her throat. A muffled 'yeah?' came from the direction of the office, and she tried to calm the quake in her voice before saying, "I'm taking a nap - not feeling well. Please make sure no one comes upstairs."

With that, she rocketed back up the staircase as fast as she could in her heels, her dress dropping back to the floor as she swung shut her bedroom door and dove beneath the freshly made sheets of her bed, fighting to pull off her underwear without having to remove her shoes, and then sinking into pure bliss.

* * *

><p><em>Beck's body was a literal work of art, fifteen times better when it was uncovered, slick from the steam and hot water pouring over the two of them - <em>

_- _Her fingers working against herself were _his, _then. She brushed two fingers softly, one after the other, over her clit, teasing herself the way that -

- _Beck's hand slid down between her thighs, using his thumb and index to push her legs in suggestion until she opened up further, tracing the tip of one finger in a slow looping circle around her center, watching her squirm impatiently with a glint in his eyes. -_

_- _"Please." she whispered, not even realizing she'd said it aloud. -

- _"Please what?" He brushed his fingers across her again, chuckling darkly. "You're wet." He observed. "No kidding." she hissed in response, gasping sharply as - _

_- _she slid a single digit inside of herself, eyes fluttering a little before she closed them once more and bit down on her lip to muffle herself. -

- _"Ah, ah, ah." Beck chastised her, holding still for a moment. She squirmed, grinding against his hand impatiently. "Please what?" he repeated. "Fuck me." she snapped at him, opening her eyes to glare at him. She immediately softened, moaning quietly into his mouth as he leaned in to kiss her, pressing her against the wall. The sharp contrast from the cold tiles versus the hot water made her whine into his mouth, reaching blindly for him, long fingers wrapping needily around his length and stroking him slowly. "Since you asked so nicely." he muttered against her lips, stepping closer to press himself against her entrance, hiking one of her legs up to rest against the closest seat. "Now." she nearly pouted, moaning outright and practically seeing stars as he slid -_

_- _three fingers into herself, bucking against her own hand as she felt that familiar, pleasant tickling warm pool up in her body, starting in her stomach, the backs of her legs, between her thighs… this was one of her go-to fantasies, usually. -

- _"Harder, god, yes, I'm mm-fuck, close." she warned desperately. "Are you gonna cum for me?" Always with the mocking inflection in his voice. She couldn't even snark back, or snap at him, instead she just nodded pathetically, biting down on her lip in a useless attempt to silence herself. He leaned in close, breath tickling her ear and whispered, "Good girl." _

She jammed her knuckles into her mouth in panic when she came, back arching from the bed a little as she moaned desperately into her hand, continuing to ride herself until she was completely sure she had nothing left to give.

* * *

><p>Beck hated clubs like this. In fact, the majority of the time he spent in them was only to entice Jade even further into believing every lie he told through his teeth about Tori, Melanie, that one bartender at the pub uptown… Her recent fascination over the last few months with <em>sex <em>was what blinded her to his constant cheating, really. She seemed willing to overlook the details that he carelessly left in her line of vision because of her own desperation to entice him further.

Tori didn't care much for the loud, trendy club scene, either. It took everything in his power not to roll his eyes as they pulled up, hearing her say for the umpteenth time since they'd met, "_I'm really more of a stay-at-home-with-tea-and-a-book kind of girl."_

Yeah, yeah. Humble and healthy - that _totally _described the brunette in his lap, her bare legs splayed out across the leather seats, dipping one long, freshly manicured finger into the little baggie in her hands. She burrowed out a little hole in the powder, before popping her finger in her mouth and then dipping it back into the bag.

"But I'm just happy to finally get to spend time with you." she concluded, turning and placing a light kiss on his lips before pulling one coke-coated finger back and then swirling it around her gums. She licked her teeth with a little grimace as she handed the bag to him in offering. Bringing Tori to these sorts of clubs was nice, though - his money could buy him almost anything he liked, but _nothing _bought him attention the way Tori did. Who cared how many bottles of _U'luvka _he could afford, if there was someone on his arm that could flash a smile to get it for free?

"Of course, babe." he took a little bump and inhaled it sharply into his left nostril, quickly evening it out with another on the right. His lips twitched slightly in distaste as watched her lick the remaining powder from her finger - why did she have to gum it all of the time? He'd have to teach her to snort. And _soon, _before she continued to fuck up more potential blowjob opportunities with this numb-mouth bullshit.

Crawling out of his lap as the door opened, she cleared her throat innocently and flashed the driver a small, innocent smile that, despite him being a 60 year old _dickbag, _he returned almost instinctively. Tori had that effect on people, Beck had come to realize.

The music was blaring - Beck could hear it the moment they'd pulled up - but now, approaching the source of the noise, he could feel himself caring less and less. Wow, that stuff had been clean. He was feeling fantastic already. He was sure this was one of his better ideas.

"Is that my sister?" Tori asked, grabbing his hand to get his attention as she tried to speak over the music. He recoiled a little, clearing his throat and covering it up by awkwardly patting her hand before letting it drop once more. Glancing in the direction she was already looking, he let out a soft sigh of disappointment. It definitely _was _Trina - which meant that Jade and Andre would be nearby.

"Looks like it. They must have a table already." He placed his hand softly on Tori's lower back, leading her through the people who were milling about or waiting at the bar line. (Who _waited _in _line _at the bar for drinks?)

Jade didn't stand up when they approached, and he felt his blood run cold at the sight of Robbie wedged comfortably and obliviously between Andre and Beck's apparently livid girlfriend. So much for that alibi.

"Looks like you got a little lost picking Robbie up." Jade told him as he sunk down a little to kiss her cheek in greeting. He could smell what seemed to be pure Ciroc on her breath when she exhaled, and a rush of relief hit him when he realized that he was not going to need to worry about facing the aftermath of this argument in the morning. She deliberately sat at the edge of the couch to make sure he was forced to sit elsewhere, but he wedged himself in next to her anyway, pretending not to notice the way her eyes moved slowly to follow his movements - she was long gone on whatever the hell she was doing before arriving.

"Change of plans, babe, but we all got here, right?" he smiled and wrapped one arm around her loosely, letting his hand drop to squeeze her ass before sliding around her hips. She was likely just hopped up on something pharmaceutical - he could tell by the way she didn't jump in surprise, or push him away - instead she simply sighed and flopped her head gently onto his shoulder.

"Yeah." She hummed, defeated, for now - too tired to argue, clearly.

Finally, Tori spoke up as someone from the staff approached, her voice sharp with irritation - but soft around the edges with potential _hurt_ that Beck didn't want to deal with. "Can we get a few bottles, here, please? I think my friends are thirsty."


End file.
